


There He Was

by skittiecat



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, F/M, Gen, can be seen as romantic or platonic tbh whatever floats your boat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-11-01 23:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20545124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skittiecat/pseuds/skittiecat
Summary: Ashe never showed up to the class reunion. Surely none of his classmates could have gone with such a war going on, right? Fate is cruel though, and he now stands in the Valley of Torment fighting against those dearest to him. [timeskip spoilers]





	There He Was

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little AU scenario I was thinking about! Ashe leaves and fights alongside Gwendal for House Rowe in a couple of routes, but not in the Blue Lions. I always thought that was kind of strange, so I wondered what would have happened if you still had to fight against him in the BL route.

There he was, in the Valley of Torment, so it was called. There he was, fighting for justice in his father's stead. He had his doubts about whether or not this was the right path for him to take, but he was sure that it's what Lonato would have wanted, what he would have done if he were still alive, if he hadn't been killed.

He had missed the reunion that he and his former classmates had promised to attend five years ago, but he had convinced himself that surely, none of the others would have been able to attend with the country in such an awful and war-torn state. His majesty had been executed, the kingdom was in ruin, and the empire was taking over-what choice did he have but to serve house Rowe in Lonato's place? Surely, it was the right path for him to take, and it was the path that he had chosen for himself.

But here he was, standing in the Valley of Torment, facing his own classmates, facing his own king who he thought had been killed. Was this some cruel, sick joke, he wondered? Was he truly fated to fight against those who he considered his friends? He shook his head, eliminating such thoughts from his mind. There was no turning back now, he had to fight, he had to stand in Lonato's place. But what was he even fighting for? He wasn't so sure anymore.

There she was, in Ailell, so she heard it was called. There the former professor was, fighting for the kingdom, fighting for the church, but more than anything, fighting for her dear friend who was missing from the reunion. When Ashe didn't show up and no one knew his whereabouts, they assumed that perhaps he had gotten killed fighting against the empire. Surely, he of all people wouldn't skip out on something they had all been so excited for. Thinking he may have been killed had broken her.

Sure, she didn't show it. She had to be strong, she couldn't embarrass herself and disappoint everyone by shedding tears in front of them. She cried herself to sleep alone in her quarters on several lonesome nights, but once she stepped out, she went back to her normal stoic self, someone she people could rely on, someone strong. This was war. These things should be expected to happen, not everyone can make it out alive and she knows that. Still, when it's someone you care about so deeply, someone you consider a dear friend, it hurts more than anything. She knew the pain of losing those precious to her all too well.

When her tears finally dried, she decided she would avenge him. She would fight those who took her former student, her precious friend away from her. She would do anything to get revenge. But here she was now, standing in the blistering heat of the valley, facing off against the very man she swore to avenge. There he was, taller now and more muscular than before, his shaggy, ash-colored hair now neatly swept to the side, fighting against her army. He still had his sweet, freckled face, but the soft features from before had hardened into someone who had seen too much bloodshed, someone who had experienced too much loss and pain.

He hesitated. He didn't want to fight her. He didn't want to fight anyone. But he knew if he surrendered now, he'd be struck down by his own army. He had to be strong, like a knight should be, like Lonato would have been. He readied an arrow, and with shaky, unsteady arms, aimed it at her. Perhaps if he barely grazed her, if he could just fire a warning shot, she would get scared away. He had both fear and conviction in his eyes, but he let the arrow go, watching it swiftly slice through the air and barely graze her cheek.

Of course she wouldn't get scared away. She could never be frightened by her dear friend Ashe. She swiped her cheek and looked down at the blood-stained hand.

"Next time I won't miss," she heard him say.

His voice was shaky and raspy, but it was deeper now. He had really grown up; he had been alive all this time, and that made her happier than anything else in the world. She dropped her weapons. She would not fight him, she refused. She wondered if he felt the same way, with the way tears brimmed his eyes and his hands shook.

She closed her eyes and smiled softly. If he killed her, it would be better than having to harm him. Even though he was a man now, she still saw that shaggy-haired boy that she had befriended long ago, the one that had been so earnest and eager to learn everything she had taught him. She desperately wanted to explain herself, explain that she had been fighting for him all this time, but the battlefield was neither the time nor place for such talk. She knew her words couldn't reach him in such an awful place. So, she resigned herself to this instead and waited for his move.

Footsteps tore through the tension. Someone was approaching, and rapidly. She turned, hair whipping around her face. It was Dimitri-his highness, their king. She had always remembered him as a proper but kind boy from their school days, but that image had been replaced by the beast that he had become. She wanted desperately to help free him from his darkness, his torment, but no one knew how just yet, despite their best efforts. In his eyes, she was not standing here facing an old friend, but an enemy, and all enemies must be dealt with. If his old teacher was not going to do it, there was no doubt that he would get the job done without any hesitation.

It felt as if the world had slowed to a complete stop. Ashe raised his arrow away from his old teacher, and instead aimed at Dimitri in a rushed panic. A million thoughts were running through his head, but he had no time to process any of them, to think about what was really going on; all he knew was that he was about to be killed by one of the people he used to look up to the most. He released the arrow, his mind a flurry of thoughts and fears. It missed. Ashe wondered if it would hurt, dying this way. He wondered if his siblings would be alright without him. He wondered if anyone would remember him after all was said and done, after the war ended. Would he be remembered as a hero or as a villain? Would he even be relevant at all? Quieting these noisy thoughts, he closed his eyes and braced himself.

But the finishing blow never hit him. It was meant to kill him, no doubt, but it never made contact, and he suddenly found himself shoved to the hard, rocky ground. His dear friend Byleth, the woman who he thought had been killed five years ago, the one he desperately wanted to reconnect with, was standing there in his place, where he had been standing just moments ago. She was wounded, a large and bloody gash across her back. Ashe felt his stomach drop and his limbs go numb. This was not what was supposed to happen, not at all.

She cried out in pain and began to collapse, all the strength being sapped from her body. Ashe felt his body move without even thinking, quickly moving himself to where she was falling, and he caught her before she could reach the ground. He was in a state of panic as tears rolled down his cheeks. He should not be acting this way, feeling this way, in the middle of a war, but he couldn't stop himself.

"Are you alright...? Good..." She whispered, smiling gently and lifting her blood-stained hand to his cheek.

He gently lowered her to the ground, quickly removing his jacket, and pressed it firmly against the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Dimitri had left in a rush to deal with other enemies, disinterested in him any longer, and Mercedes was now fast approaching. Would her healing be enough? Could Byleth be saved in this state? She had traded her life for his own. If she made it out of this alive, he vowed to do everything he could possibly do to serve and protect her. He now knew that the path he had chosen had not been the correct one. Whatever punishment he may be dealt would be well worth saving her; he wanted nothing more than to be with his friends again, to once again share their lunches together, and to see their smiling faces every day.

Her world was starting to go cold and dark. She was happy she was able to save her dearest friend, and she silently decided if she made it out of this alive, she would do everything in her power to keep him safe from now on. She was smiling as she lost consciousness.

There he was, his freckled face tear-stained, holding his unconscious, dying friend, hoping and praying to any goddess that would listen that this cruel war would not take her from him.

**Author's Note:**

> Do I think Byleth would do this? Probably not. But I love pain and hurting myself apparently lol


End file.
